So Be It
by T'Pring
Summary: An expedition to a creepy planet brings the team face to face with their own mortality.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This oneshot in two parts came about purely as an excuse for Shep-whump and John Sheppard hero worship. Gets a little melancholy, but in the end, it's all about the love ;-)_

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"Woah."

It was rare for all of John Sheppard's instincts to start screaming 'oh crap' all at the same time so he froze only three steps after exiting the Stargate. Not for the first time, he wished he could just turn around and go back home. The feeling of unease was so intense he was reaching for his radio when Ronon bumped his shoulder on his way out of the event horizon. The large man shot John a puzzled look then wandered further into the strange landscape spreading out before them. Teyla and Rodney emerged an instant later and the gate shut down.

John held onto a deep breath then let it out slowly.

"This place is creepy," Rodney announced at last, breaking the spell of silence that had fallen over the group. They'd been laughing and joking on the platform as they prepared to debark. Even Woolsey had seemed in a pleasant mood when he approved the mission. It seemed easy enough – investigate an Ancient planet that had been abandoned, presumably destroyed early in the war with the Wraith. They were to look around and see if there was anything cool left behind. No one expected there to be.

John swept his gaze across what might have once been a garden, except without flowers. John couldn't see a single bright color among the hundreds of shades of green. The sun was high, but the garden still seemed dim somehow. Deep shadows under the overgrown and unkempt vegetation made the place seem depressingly gloomy in the weak light. It also didn't help that the formations of lumpy, chalk-grey stones poking through the ground in random clumps looked a whole lot like tombstones.

"I've got a bad feeling," John admitted at last. Teyla shot him a close look and he could only shrug at the implied question. "Can't explain it. It's just too…quiet."

Teyla cocked her head, listened, then began to nod in rather aggressive agreement.

"You're right! The plant life seems lush, but I hear no animal activity at all. No bird or insect calls."

"Rodney, you got any life signs around here?" John shifted his P-90 into a more comfortable ready position and realized that he still hadn't moved away from the gate.

"None at all. I'm not getting any life. Not even bacteria. This place is…awesome."

John snorted with unease. "How do you figure that?"

"Think about it. No bacteria. No insects. Nothing with teeth or claws or a tendency to trigger allergic reactions. You'd never get sick. Food wouldn't spoil."

"I remember something in biology class about decomposers being useful critters," John muttered, then more loudly, "but why? Why isn't there any animal life when the plants seem to like it so well?"

"Beats me." Rodney wandered closer to one of the stones and idly touched the surface. John restrained an irrational urge to shout a warning, or to shove him out of its way. He clutched his weapon tight in sweaty hands, but nothing happened. Rodney waved his scanner over the thing for a moment, then twisted to walk towards another stone close by. Teyla and Ronon were slowly walking away from the stargate, exploring. Teyla tapped a stone/sculpture/thing that looked like a human dipped in wax, thickened and rounded but eerily familiar.

With a jolt as sharp as an electric shock, John's unease flared into bonafide panic.

"Let's get out of here," he grunted and flung himself at the DHD. The device was wrapped in vines and moss but its shape, like the human sculpture, was recognizable. The others had only turned to throw him puzzled looks by the time he reached the front and slammed his hand into the first symbol that would send them home.

"Ow!" His hand jerked away from the panel of its own accord, tingling. That shock had hurt! The symbol remained lit, but John was, predictably, hesitant to touch the device again.

"Rodney! Get the hell over here and make the DHD work," he bellowed. There was no answer and John spun, annoyed. "Hey! I asked you to…Oh…crap."

Rodney stood frozen in mid step, mid gesture, surrounded by a swirling, liquid golden glow. John felt a shudder ripple across his shoulders. The rounded field of energy encased Rodney in a shape exactly like the creepy stone sculpture. A voice tickled John's ear and he could have sworn he heard words whispering on the dead air.

"Rodney!" Teyla exclaimed, catching on as John hesitated. She leaned to rush to Rodney's side only to jerk to a halt an instant later. A pale version of the same golden glow around Rodney surrounded her and grew brighter with shocking speed.

John yelled her name. Ronon was caught an instant later. Forgetting the DHD, John raced to the glow around Teyla and shoved his hand into the light. The shock his touch ignited threw him to the ground; he felt the hair on his head lift in response to the charge. His heart beat uncomfortably fast for a moment from the jolt, then continued in fear.

"What the hell is going on?" he yelled in pure frustration. His voice was hoarse and there was no one to hear. He scrambled to stand up. He would dial the DHD and call for help, shock be damned. He took one step and then felt every muscle seize. He growled with effort and made it only one more step before the pale glow engulfed him and he could push himself no further.

The glow grew brighter and more opaque. The garden was fading from his vision when a voice whispered in his ear. It was so soft and insistent that he couldn't tell if someone was standing at his shoulder or if the voice was coming from inside his head. There was no time to think...

"So be it," whispered the voice.

The field let him go.

John hustled. The instant the glow released him, he cajoled aching muscles until they began to move again. He lurched back towards Rodney in an ungraceful lumber, digging clumsily in his pockets as he went. When he found the rubber gloves he'd been looking for, he tugged them over sweat-slicked palms. Latex was no real protection against the charge he was expecting, but the gloves might protect the skin on his hands…a little.

The field around Rodney was already so opaque that the shape was starting to look as solid as the stones nearby. John tapped the glow gingerly and jerked when the charge again jolted through him, this time flashing with a bright blue spark. He spun on his heel scanning the ground for something, anything that could help him break Rodney free. His P-90 banged against his chest and he paused.

"Why the hell not," he muttered to himself, unclipping the weapon. He just hoped the metal casing of the compact weapon was conductive enough for what he needed. He dropped to one knee and set the butt of the gun on the ground a few inches away from the ankles of the Rodney-shaped field and then leaned the muzzle towards the glow. John thought he knew what he had to do, and how. He just didn't know if he'd be able to do it.

"Here goes, Rodney," he said, unable to squash the dread that was building in his chest. "Hopefully this won't hurt either of us …too much."

John let go of the muzzle and it fell to lean against the energy field surrounding Rodney. There was a great flash of light and crackle of sound as the connection to ground interrupted the field's continuity. The field flickered then began to swirl again, degenerating from a smooth, solid glow, to arcs and sparks of blue-white current. John shielded his eyes from the glare and flashes until he could see Rodney again within the maelstrom and then he lunged.

Light skittered down his arms and over his vest, crawling towards the ground in threads of blue. John ignored the extremely uncomfortable feeling of his arms tingling into numbness and closed his fists around Rodney's vest. With a mighty heave, he yanked Rodney out of the field. Fingers of energy stretched and clung to them until, with another massive effort, John managed to lift Rodney's feet off the ground for an instant. The field collapsed completely.

John fell backwards at the sudden release, Rodney on top of him. For a moment he lay still, panting hard. His hands were buzzing and his heart was thumping against his ribs. Whatever the charge was, it wasn't normal electricity. It didn't burn, exactly. It just felt like it was crawling through him like worms.

"Get off, Rodney," John groaned at last. He received only a groan in return, but the sluggish protest brought a smile to John's lips. John shoved, felt for Rodney's pulse just to make sure then left him there to wake up on his own. He'd gotten one out, barely. He had to do it twice more. The P-90 was a smoking, melted chunk of metal, so John left it alone and swiped Rodney's.

Teyla was easier. She was small and light and John was able to grab, yank, and lift her in one smooth motion. She too fell to the ground, alive, but unconscious. John pushed himself to his feet one more time, and took Teyla's P-90 to stagger towards Ronon. The unpleasant buzzing in John's hands had crept up to his shoulders. His legs shook with each step. He was lightheaded and his pulse still felt too fast.

John paused in front of the glowing mound that was Ronon. Ronon was a lot taller than John. And heavier. John sighed, resigned. He'd need to get his shoulder into Ronon's chest to lift him for the split second it took to break the connection. When he propped the P-90 into place to disrupt the field, he waited a bit longer for the current to run into the ground. The field degenerated into a chaotic shell of lightening and Ronon started to twitch with the random touches of energy. Fearing he'd waited too long John dove into the sparks.

Tendrils of unnatural electricity licked over John in warm tickles. He felt his hair stand on end and gritted his teeth when his shoulder connected with Ronon's chest. A sharp crack announced the touch, and John bit back a cry at the sudden pain that flared over the shoulder. His shaking knees almost collapsed and he braced harder against Ronon's rigid frame. With a massive effort, he heaved and flung Ronon up and backwards.

The field snapped out of existence, leaving behind a sharp scent of ozone in the air. Ronon crumpled in a heap and John sank to his hands and knees. The smell of burned flesh and singed fabric mingled with ozone. John coughed then buried his face in the springy cool grass. He was shaking all over. His heart was thrashing in his chest like a caged animal and his shoulder throbbed.

"I'm really glad that worked," he panted to himself. "We're out of P-90s." He remained grass for a moment longer, working up his courage. The dread had returned, mingled with regret and sorrow. When he got to his feet it was with a sudden, frantic scramble. He stood long enough to make sure his legs were going to work for him, and he set his feet towards the DHD. He wasn't finished yet.

"Sheppard?" Rodney was sitting up in the grass and pressing his palms into his temples.

John almost turned aside to help Rodney get up, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to finish what he had to do if he stopped now. If he stopped now, he'd…be afraid.

"McKay. Help Teyla and Ronon. When the gate opens, get everyone through."

"What?" Rodney was still confused and bleary, but he pushed himself to his knees and tried to stand.

"I'm dialing the DHD."

"Oh. OK."

John smiled to himself in satisfaction as Rodney got himself to his feet then lumbered over to Teyla. She was already sitting up herself, looking just as confused. John stopped in front of the DHD and flexed his hands within the latex gloves. The symbol he'd touched first was still lit, an uncomfortable reminder.

John took a deep breath. He lifted his hand to hover over the second symbol and realized it was clenched into a shaking fist.

"Hell," he growled softly, his courage wavering. He touched the device.

The expected jolt was spread out a bit by the glove, but his arm still jerked away in autonomic response. Annoyed, he slammed his hand into the next three keys in rapid succession before the shock was so intense, he fell to his knees cradling the arm the arc had traveled through. They were getting stronger with each touch. His heart was thrashing again, but with a strange feeling of lopsidedness.

John pushed himself to his feet. He gritted his teeth and pushed the 6th symbol. When the jolt threw him to the ground again, a small whimper escaped his throat. His hand was stinging like his shoulder and he struggled to sit up long enough to peel the glove off. The fingertips had melted and were threatening to do more harm than good. He hesitated a moment more, then flung himself to his feet, to slap at the 7th symbol.

"John!"

Teyla's cry followed his own scream of pain and defiance. He lifted his head from where he'd been flung to see his team huddled together, holding each other upright and moving slowly towards him.

"Go…to the gate…" he yelled.

He had to activate the address. He had to touch the DHD one last time and they would be free. They would be safe.

John struggled to his knees, then pushed against his thighs to stand. He looked at his friends one last time. They were walking, they would make it.

He lifted his hand over the glowing center bulb…and hesitated. He was afraid. He didn't want to touch it.

"John?"

Teyla again. She needed to go home. She needed to go to her son. He trusted his team.

John slammed his hand into the ball. His body seized with the charge and he could almost feel the line of fire as the jolt raced from the hand to his foot against the ground. He couldn't pull away. He saw his hand blacken. He heard screaming, but the roar of pain was too loud to make out words. He was afraid it might be him.

The charge finally released him and he crumpled to the ground in a heap. He couldn't move. His chest felt strangely quiet, although he could feel the barest butterfly flutters of motion in the eerie quiet. It was another moment before he realized he couldn't breathe. A brief moment of panic was all he was allowed before his vision began to dim, and he willed himself deeper into it.

He heard his name spoken close by, and he closed his eyes.

"So be it," the voice whispered one last time.


	2. Chapter 2

Teyla followed Carson through the infirmary feeling her feet grow heavier with each step. She'd wrestled Rodney and Ronon with polite fury to earn the privilege of being the one who would be allowed to visit John's bedside. But the nearer she drew, the more afraid of what she would find she became.

Carson at last noticed her hesitancy and slowed to walk beside her. He reached out and clasped her hand with both of his. She returned the gesture with a fierce squeeze and chided herself. Her friends had charged her with bringing them news and with delivering their well-wishes. She would not fail them simply because she started to shake every time she brushed against the memory of the mission that had brought John here. The self-rebuke was only partially successful.

"Is John going to be OK, Carson? Can he truly be healed after…dying like that?"

"Colonel Sheppard was successfully resuscitated within only seconds of his arrival on Atlantis. The path of the burns traces through his trunk, from hand to foot, so his brain was unaffected by the jolt. Jennifer has decided to initiate therapeutic hypothermia…just in case there is neurological trauma from the brief period of ventricular fibrillation." He sighed and Teyla felt the fear writhe, recognizing his words as carefully non-committal.

"When we saw him fall, and I felt for his pulse and found nothing… I thought it was the end. Carson, I thought - . I thought - ."

Teyla folded her arms around herself. She could almost smell again the sickly sweet scent of charred flesh as they had dragged John, limp and still smoking through the gate. She had only been half conscious herself, but she would never, ever forget the smell.

Carson patted her arm. "John is lucky that the Ancients have such lovely gadgets for medical care. He has many advantages here that he wouldn't get anywhere else. If he makes it through the next 24 hours, he'll have a better than even chance to survive."

"_If_ he makes it through?"

"We're doing everything we can."

The words were of no comfort to Teyla. She completed the final steps to the window outside the critical care room. She closed her eyes. Carson stood quietly next to her. A surge of anger coursed through her like the jolt that had seared through John. John had saved her life. She owed him more than timidity and self-pity. She snapped her spine straight. With deliberate care she relaxed her arms to her sides, although her fists remained closed. She lifted her chin and opened her eyes.

* * *

"His hand and shoulder are badly burned as is the foot where the current went to ground. He has many bandages there, as well as along the path. Carson says there are internal burns as well."

Teyla sat curled up on the hard, plastic chair, her legs drawn close to her chest, her elbow leaning on the cafeteria table. Beyond the balcony at one end of their table, Atlantis's East Pier twinkled warmly and cast sparks onto the glass-calm waters of the city's inner bay. A slight tickle of wind breathed on her face, then went still again. The night air felt expectant, as if it was holding its breath as it waited with them. Ronon was sprawled across two chairs on the opposite side. Rodney waved a muffin from the end seat as he spoke.

"Electricity is crazy stuff, even when it's the normal variety. Who knows what that charge actually was. Whoever or _what_ever booby-trapped the DHD didn't seem to care much about the usual laws of electrical conduction."

The balcony was brightly lit around them, but the three friends were alone in the large space. Teyla had rejoined the rest of her team when she could no longer stand watching John lie so still.

"Did Jennifer say he was going to be OK?" Ronon flung the question with the keenness of a blade. Teyla chuffed in weary resignation.

"The shock taxed John's heart's ability to regulate its own electrical pulse. Neither Carson nor Jennifer were making promises." She dropped her chin onto her knees. "Which worries me. John has been injured badly before. But this time…" She cocked her head wearily at Rodney's growing look of shock.

"They got his heart started. You said his brain didn't get fried – not that we'd notice if it had," he sputtered. "He'll be crabby for a week until Jennifer lets him go back to field duty and then… it will be all right. Right? Everything will be back to normal."

"I hope so, Rodney. I really do. Carson said the next 24 hours will be… difficult for John. If he survives -."

"Carson said _if_?" Rodney had passed shock and was bordering on panic. "There's an IF here? Why didn't you tell us that there's an 'if'. I've got to get down there. I've got to tell him that I… That he can't…"

Teyla watched their panicky friend's face contort from surprise to fear to anger as he spoke. Her own heart twisted in sympathy. Rodney rose abruptly and dropped the half eaten muffin, looking lost – like he didn't know what to do next. He turned as if to go, turned back then finally slammed his hands down on the table. "He can't die. Not like that!" He froze, as if startled by his own outburst.

Teyla's feet slipped off the seat and thumped to the floor. Across from her, Ronon went so still, so pale, that she feared he might pass out.

"Rodney," she said. He turned wide eyes towards her and sank slowly back into his chair. "Rodney, did… you hear the question too?"

"What question?" he breathed. She turned to Ronon instead.

"Ronon?"

Ronon jerked his chin in a single, quick nod, then looked away. Teyla buried her face in her hands, fighting for composure. Rodney finally spoke, sounding small and afraid through her fingers.

"I thought it was just me. The voice asked me -. It asked me how I wanted to die and I should have said I didn't want to die, that I had a lot of stuff to get done, you know? And I should have fought it off somehow and, and …"

"It wasn't just you," Teyla interrupted softly. "The voice also asked me how I wished to die."

"Well, what did you say?"

Teyla remained silent for a long time.

She remembered the feel of the air as they stepped through the Stargate. Their happy chatter had ceased abruptly. Her skin shivered with goosebumps and the fine hairs on her arms and neck tingled. John had seemed edgy from the first moment they arrived, but Teyla had felt nothing but the desperate loneliness of the abandoned world.

The question had come without warning. Like Rodney, she'd responded as if by instinct. _How do you want to die?_

"Among my people," she began softly, "When an elder survives the Wraith and the toils of a hard life, there are many rituals around the joy of dying peacefully among family and dear friends."

"Not just your people," Rodney agreed.

"I didn't think it deliberately, but that was the image my mind created." She stopped.

"Did you _feel_ it that way?" Ronon asked. He leaned closer.

"Yes."

Teyla shivered and hugged herself. The energy had surrounded her more and more thickly with each second. She'd drifted into a dream of lying on luxurious skins and pillows, surrounded by a great throng of people. Her son, Torren, grown into a handsome and powerful man stood beside her holding her hand and smiling. She could even smell the tang of ceremonial incense as her age-withered body faded away…

"Damn!" she snapped, wiping tears of frustration. She felt Rodney's anger. She should have resisted. She should have struggled. John had fought…

"Don't blame yourself, Teyla." Ronon's voice was so thick with…something…that she startled. He held her eyes and she realized that he was struggling with the same guilt. "Don't blame yourself," he repeated. "You only answered according to your nature, and your culture."

"Nature and culture, huh?" Rodney blurted. "So I suppose you asked to die being hacked to death in mortal combat with a glorious enemy?" His words were sharp as if mocking, but Teyla saw him jut his chin out in the way that meant Rodney was concealing concern. She had to admit she shared his curiosity.

To her shock, Ronon flinched as if he'd been slapped. He looked away, fidgeted, pushed his chair back to balance on two legs.

"Uh. No. Maybe if I had, I could have fought off whatever it was that attacked us." There was the guilt again…and the something else. Again Rodney beat her to a reply.

"You _didn't_ ask to die being hacked to death in mortal combat with a glorious enemy? Well that rules out the 'nature' part of the equation. And considering your Satedan warrior training, it rules out 'culture' too. What else could you possibly come up with?"

Teyla kept herself from scolding Rodney. She was watching Ronon carefully and thought her taciturn friend needed to speak the demons he was clearly wrestling with. He grinned nervously, then let the smile fade. He wouldn't meet their eyes.

"I thought about…Melena."

"Melena. Melena? Who's…oh," Rodney broke off, his eyes wide again. "Your friend who died on Sateda."

Ronon just nodded. He hadn't really answered the question, but he said no more. A stilted, uncomfortable silence followed. Teyla thought about going to check on John again, then realized it had only been an hour or so since she'd returned. Jennifer had said it would be at least several hours before John was stable enough to even consider waking.

"It was a trick question," Rodney snapped after the quiet became painful. "If the voice-thing had asked IF I want to die, or when I wanted to die, I could have answered…better. 'How' didn't have to mean right away. I mean, seriously – if we were sitting around a table and things got morbid and someone asked 'How do you want to die' you wouldn't just assume they were going to jump up and kill you after you answered, would you? Would you?"

Rodney was talking faster and faster as he went. Teyla put a hand over his to soothe the anxiety she could see on his face.

"No."

"My father died in terrible pain," Rodney's voice caught, but he powered through his thought. "The cancer ate through him from the inside out. It took two years for him to pass on. Ever since then, I've hoped… I've wished that I'll get to go quickly and peacefully. That was the first thing that popped in my head when the voice asked its stupid question. I want to die in my sleep. I should have added as an old, old…OLD man." He waved a fist in the air in frustration.

"None of us answered correctly, Rodney. I answered incorrectly. I answered…selfishly. But as you said, it was a trick. A cruel joke to lull us into accepting the death we did not seek nor deserve."

"John answered correctly." Teyla turned to Ronon, startled by the snarl in his voice.

"We don't know that. Perhaps he was able to fight off the effects of the force field some other way. Or perhaps it did not -."

"No. I saw him get caught in the field. I was caught just before him and I watched him long enough to see him try to penetrate your field and then turn towards the DHD. The field froze him just like the rest of us."

Rodney threw up his hands in a gesture of resignation. It made no more sense to Teyla. She sighed. "We may never know what really happened. It was the DHD that injured John so badly. Not the field."

"And he's lucky he didn't fry the thing along with himself. Stupid stunt," Rodney muttered.

"That stunt saved your ass and got you off the planet!" Ronon snapped back.

"Which doesn't mean it wasn't stupid. If he'd waited til I could check it out then maybe I could have… Maybe he wouldn't have…"

Rodney broke off and he shoved to his feet again with one last glower at Ronon who was tense and glowering back. "I'm going to see him. Carson can try to stop me." He stalked off the balcony towards the transporter, his stiff gait evidence of his distress.

Teyla watched in deep concern as Ronon bared his teeth and slammed a fist into the table.

"We must keep hope, Ronon," Teyla soothed, as much for herself as him. "Jennifer and Carson are gifted healers. They will do everything they can for John. They will not let him down, just as he did not let us down in our need. That field or being or whatever it was intended us mortal harm. John rescued us from that fate."

Ronon hung his head over the table and clenched fists for a long quiet moment. "I asked to die with her," Ronon said finally and the anguish in his voice broke Teyla's heart. She threw her hands over his, bent her head close to his. "When I was running, I wished every day that I had died with her. I wouldn't submit to death at the hands of the Wraith because they had denied me the right to die with her. Some days, that was the only thing that kept me alive. And when the voice asked…" he stopped.

"You answered with your heart," Teyla whispered, understanding at last. "Did you feel it that way?"

"Yes."

His eyes were sparkling before he closed them tightly. He gave her hands one last squeeze, then fled the balcony, his shoulders slumped. He would wander, maybe run to burn off the emotion, she knew.

She might as well join Rodney, she thought, and pushed wearily to her own feet. John would not wake for hours, but he should be out from under the specialized treatment by now. Carson would let them sit with him.

The halls of Atlantis were empty and hushed at the late hour. The city creaked softly over gentle sways of the water. Teyla concentrated on filling her mind with the silence, willing it to soothe her whirling spirit. But one question remained unsettled and restless at the surface.

She entered the infirmary and felt the tension in the room. The lights were raised to full daytime illumination and the staff was alert and busy. There was an aura of anticipation here too, as if every nurse and doctor was listening for a call that would demand their life-giving skills. She found Rodney, slumped and snoring softly, in a hard chair in the far corner of John's intensive care room. Teyla threaded her way through the several nurses and slid down the wall to curl on the floor beside Rodney.

Jennifer threw her a questioning look, acknowledged Teyla's nod of greetings, then returned to watching the heart monitors. The young woman would reach out and pat John's arm every so often and murmur an encouraging word.

"Hang in there, John." "Keep it up, Colonel. You're doing great." And "None of that! We need you around to keep Rodney in line," when the monitors would blip and the staff would stiffen in concern, readying themselves for action if needed.

John lay perfectly still. The thin sheets covered him to his chin, but she saw the thick lump of bandages on his shoulder and around the hand that rested on his chest. His face was pinched, as if expressing pain, even in the deepest of sleep, but he moved not at all. Despite exhaustion, both mental and physical, Teyla could not release herself to rest until – at long last and with smiles that rippled through the room like a wave of sunlight – John groaned and rustled slightly under his sheets.

Teyla dropped her head onto her knees to hide the sparkle of tears. John was truly back. She knew Jennifer would give her no new assurances were she to ask, but Teyla knew. If he was moving, he was fighting. She realized it had been his stillness that frightened her. A stillness not broken since she'd fallen to her knees beside him at the DHD – until now.

Fatigue finally could be denied no longer, and she leaned against Rodney's leg and felt herself drifting off. Her last thought was of piercing curiosity. The question pursued her into her dreams and remained with her the moment she woke, hours later.

How had John answered the phantom voice's question?

* * *

"Hey sleeping beauty! Are you finally going to stay awake long enough to talk to us?"

"Rodney!" Teyla scolded, but she was smiling. Ronon rumbled a greeting and John saw his own smile bring joy to the eyes of his friends. He must have been pretty far gone for them to be so relieved. The thought was a bit disconcerting. He sat up a bit straighter in the infirmary bed, trying to look more awake than he felt.

"Hi," he managed to croak. He still felt breathless all the time, and couldn't seem to drink enough to keep his mouth from going dry. He took a couple deep breaths and tried again. "Hi guys. What's up?"

"You. For the first time in days. You are really milking the whole 'Just because my heart stopped I should get extra time off' thing, aren't you?" Teyla slapped him on the arm and Rodney overplayed his reaction considerably.

"Doc…says…some of my…transistors…got fried. Get…to take it…easy," he panted.

"You have been very ill. You take all the time you need, John," Teyla answered with another glare at Rodney who was giving him a once over.

"I guess you do still look pretty bad. You're all puffy and pale."

This time Teyla shoved Rodney all the way away from the bed and sat down on the edge. "How do you feel?" she asked, ignoring the grinning men behind her.

"Pretty good, I guess," he lied. "Better than feeling dead." Teyla frowned, a funny expression frozen on her face. Rodney darted to the opposite side of his bed, out of Teyla's reach.

"I'm glad you brought that up. So why aren't you dead? We can't work out how you got out of that energy trap and we didn't."

"Rodney!" Teyla hissed, and this time the word was a warning.

"Oh come on! Listen, the team that went back to that planet confirmed that the trap and the booby-traps were an Ancient AI gone haywire. It was built to protect human populations from the Wraith by intercepting them when they came through the gate."

"You sent…people…back?" John interrupted, the rebuke clear even with the weak delivery. Rodney had the manners to look defensive.

"With proper precaution of course! The team went geared with enough non-conductive padding to survive an hour inside a Naquadah generator. We made it past the creepy sculptures and found the bunker where the AI was running. The Ancients apparently left it on when they abandoned the planet during the war, and over time it had gotten a little eccentric."

"Eccentric," John repeated, still a bit thrown by the thought of going back. He was glad he hadn't been up for that mission. He fought down a shudder. Teyla squeezed his hand tighter as Rodney went on.

"Yeah. It was supposed to protect the planet from intruders, but somehow got confused and started killing off anything that could ever be a threat to anything else, native or otherwise. The food chain threw it for a loop and it ended up killing everything that moved or otherwise lived by eating something else."

"Knew…I should have…given up…steak," John panted, struggling for humor.

"Wouldn't have helped. It was so warped by the time we got there, it considered squishing the grass as a hostile act. The crazy part was how it kind of had a conscience."

"How do you figure that?" Ronon asked. John watched his friend twitch angrily at Rodney's choice of phrase.

"Well, it felt bad about killing sentient intruders, so it sortof…tried to make it pleasant."

Despite himself, John snorted, then had to close his eyes for a moment against a wave of dizziness. His shoulder and hand were starting to throb, too, and he realized that he was clenching his fists around the wads of gauze. His shoulders were stiff with tension.

"Hell of a thoughtful murderer," Ronon spat. Rodney could only shrug in agreement.

"We turned it off. Well, Lorne blew it up. We might use that planet as a beta site. Probably the only place in the Pegasus galaxy we won't have to worry about pathogens or wild animals. The AI was quite thorough."

John just nodded, trying not to think about having to set foot in that place again. Maybe he could kill the idea of a beta site later. Teyla squeezed his arm tightly and John realized that he had closed his eyes again.

"You need to rest."

"But we… but he… He still hasn't told us about how he got out of the field."

"Later, McKay," Ronon growled, the warning clear in his voice, too.

"He hasn't told us how he answered the question." Rodney blurted loudly, sounding disappointed, like a kid promised, then denied ice cream.

"Rodney…" Teyla breathed, and this last time her voice was thick with defeat.

John lay very still. He heard Teyla's frustration in the rebuke, but her curiosity was also clear in the awkward silence that followed. The memory of the planet rose to the surface unwillingly. He felt the eerie stillness of the air, the instinct that something was wrong. He felt the horror again of watching his team immobilized one at a time. The frustration as he was caught, unable to free them…

John opened his eyes to find Ronon studying him from the end of the bed. He tried to say something, then clamped his mouth shut again with a helpless shrug. Ronon held his eyes for a long beat, then nodded.

"You answered according to your nature," Ronon said firmly.

"I knew you guys would get me home," John added softly. He'd known that there were no guarantees, but that if there was any chance of surviving whatever the voice dished out, his team would find it. Carson and Jennifer would find it. It was a risk he was willing to take.

Teyla looked from John to Ronon and back again. He knew she understood, too. He squirmed a bit in embarrassment at the look of pride on their faces. "We'll let you rest," she repeated.

"But what was your answer?" Rodney whined, halfway between frustration and petulance. He had to quickly scuttle away from Ronon who was snatching for him, to finish his protest. "That insane AI wasn't too bright, but it was pretty determined. I just can't figure out what you could have said or thought that would have kept it from killing you."

Rodney had scurried all the way around the bed and stood at John's shoulder where he peered at John's face, clearly determined to get an answer. John just returned the look, pointedly glanced down at himself sagging into the pillows, dozens of wires still stuck to his chest and snaking through the neck of his gown. He held up a hand twisted in wires and medical tape. Rodney's eyes went wide with comprehension.

"Oh! I get it. You got off on a technicality."

Teyla groaned and Ronon finally caught up with the now beaming Rodney. Ronon grabbed him by the shoulders and began to march him out of the room.

"Get better and, you know, stuff!" Rodney called over his shoulder. "If you want to talk or something just let me…ow!" And they were gone.

John could feel fatigue and a general sense of illness pulling at him. He enjoyed his friends' company, but Rodney could be somewhat...exhausting.

Teyla chuckled, lingering for just a moment longer. "Thank you, John," she murmured. "For your trust and your protection."

He blushed. "You'd have done the same for -."

"Yes," Teyla interrupted his standard answer and he stared at her, surprised at the frustration in her voice. There was even a shadow of guilt in her eyes, but he couldn't think of anything to say. She forced a smile, patted his arm one last time.

"I will check on you soon."

She left, quietly thoughtful. John squirmed for a few minutes, trying to get comfortable, feeling embarrassment warm his cheeks. He didn't do what he did for gratitude and he didn't want to die. But he would if it was the only way to live.

It was his nature.

* * *

"_What the hell is going on?" he yelled in pure frustration. His voice was hoarse and there was no one to hear. He scrambled to stand up. He would dial the DHD and call for help, shock be damned. He took one step before every muscle in his body seized. He growled with effort and made it only one more step before the pale glow engulfed him and he could push himself no further._

_The glow grew brighter and more opaque. The garden was fading from his vision when a voice whispered in his ear. It was so soft and insistent that he couldn't tell if someone was standing at his shoulder or if the voice was coming from inside his head. There was no time to think. _

"_How do you wish to die?"_

"_I don't!" he screamed into his mind, desperate to get free, to release his team._

"_But you must." The voice seemed almost puzzled. "How do you wish to die?"_

"_I don't, I don't, I don't, I don't…" John repeated over and over._

"_How do you wish to die?!" the voice demanded; there was anger tinged with madness in the tone. He felt incredible pressure on his mind to answer and his desperate chant faded under the assault. This thing was probably already killing his friends. His answer slipped out unbidden, unrehearsed, pure instinct, pure hope._

"_I…I wish to die rescuing my team."_

_There was a long pause._

"_So be it."_


End file.
